Feline
by datawolf39
Summary: John comes home and Sherlock is acting a bit weird.
1. Sher-cat

**A/n something weird.**

**Should I continue it?**

**R and R.**

John had just finished his shift at the surgery and was coming home when he realized that Sherlock hadn't texted or called him today. That never bode well so it came as a shock when he saw that the flat was not destroyed. With a sigh of relief he moved to go into the kitchen when he noticed that Sherlock was sitting in the armchair.

He hadn't noticed him before simply because the man was so quiet. John's eyes narrowed. Something was going on here. Sherlock was never this quiet and it was a bit scary to see him like this. Something was wrong.

"Sherlock?" he asked wincing at how uncertain he sounded.

It was only due to the fact that his life had become on strange event after another that he remained conscious when the world's one and only Consulting Detective opened his mouth and what came out was, "_Merow_,"

John swallowed. Counted to five. Gave himself a pinch to be sure this wasn't a weird dream and then said "Sherlock what did you just say?"

Sherlock looked at him and rolled his eyes. In Sherlock-speak that read as 'It's obvious John. Just think if that isn't too much for you that is? John didn't know if he should be concerned that he could berate himself in his head in a Sherlock-like voice or not so he said, "You're pretending to be a cat?"

"_Merow," _Sherlock spoke again.

With that John went into the kitchen to make tea. He reached up for two mugs before he remembered Sherlock was pretending to be a cat. With that he put back one mug and went in the refrigerator and got the milk. Once he saw there was enough he reached up and got one of the food only bowls and washed it twice better safe than sorry. Then he poured some milk in and placed it in the microwave, after checking it was sanitary of course. After it was heated a bit he added a touch of honey. The kettle had boiled by then and he prepared his tea. Then he laughed softly to himself he wondered what Sherlock's reaction would be.

When he got back to the sitting room he placed the bowl on the table and sat on the couch. He sipped at his tea and looked over at Sherlock.

Sherlock for his part was rather amused. He never thought that John would play along so he did the only thing he could. He stood up and walked over to the table. He sat on the floor by John's feet and licked at the milk.

John giggled.

Sherlock looked at him and had to smile. Then with a shrug he went back to his bowl of milk.

After he finished what he wanted, he got onto the couch and waited for John to make the next move.

John placed a hand on Sherlock's inky curls.

Sherlock was a bit startled but after a second he just laid his head in John's lap to make the petting easier. Then he proceeded to make a sound that was close to a purr. This of course startled his companion.

When dinnertime rolled around Sherlock was still acting like a cat so John did the only thing he could. He made fish for dinner.

The next day everything was normal, well the weird normal that John had come to think of as normal not that it was what normal was for normal people. John really never understood what had brought on Sher-cat but he didn't mind. This kind of thing was just part of living with Sherlock Holmes.


	2. Return of Sher-cat

**A/n I GOT FIVE REVIEWS IN TWO DAYS! Sorry for the caps but I'm so happy! Without my permission my brain started more for this story and I don't know how long it will go. I have this short one and about two others planned.**

It had been a month since John had come home and found his flatmate pretending to be a cat and with all the excitement of the cases that they had done in that time the Sher-cat incident had migrated to the back of his mind.

It was a Friday and Sherlock and John had come to a crime scene that put Sherlock in his element. Not even the fact that Anderson was on forensics could dampen the Consulting Detective's mood. The case was just that good and John smiled. Sherlock deserved a good case. Not that he was happy that a person was dead but he was happy Sherlock had a good case. John shook his head; he really did not feel like thinking about his warped sense of morality.

"So Sherlock what do we have?" John asked.

"A mystery, John. Isn't brilliant?" Sherlock said with a smile.

John smiled softly at him. He rarely got to see Sherlock like this and it was nice to see him like this. "Yeah, it's brilliant." John answered as he stepped away to let Sherlock work.

Of course the moment was ruined when a group of Yarders walked in the room and started to criticize Sherlock when he began telling how the crime was committed.

He could tell that it was starting to get to Sherlock after one particularly vicious insult and just as he was about to break out Captain Watson mode Sherlock turned his back on the Yarders and walked over to John.

This would have been quite normal had the madman kept walking but he didn't. With an easy grace that the man always possessed he slipped behind John in an effortless movement and wrapped himself around the smaller man burying his head in the area between the neck and shoulder.

John's eyes widened as he understood what had happened.

"You're a cat again aren't you?" he whispered to man that was draped over him as heavy as a winter coat.

"_Nya," _came the reply.

John had to smile. He hadn't read many mangas but there were a few that he liked and he recognized the sound. "A Japanese cat are you?"

Sherlock didn't move and John raised a hand to pet the curls that were tickling his face. It didn't matter that people would talk because they already did a lot anyway.


	3. Saved by Sher-cat

The instances of John encountering Sher-cat were becoming more frequent. Not that it was an everyday event but it happened at least once a week and at most three times. The length of the episodes was never a constant but John didn't mind.

John figured that Sherlock liked pretending to be a cat because he did things in that mentality that he wouldn't do otherwise. For example Sherlock always invaded others space but somehow he kept people out of his own. But as Sher-cat he went down to basic instinct. But John was the only one he chose to respond to. There was also the fact that it was quiet when Sherlock was being a cat and though it wasn't how most flatmates spent time together it was kind of a bonding time.

For Sherlock have the Sher-cat persona brought home just how important John had become. He had always been a verbose person even as a child. Words were his weapon and his shield. But when that was removed he realized just how well John knew him. With a look he could convey anything and John would understand. Not because he was fluent in the language of observation like Sherlock but because he knew Sherlock well enough to interpret his expressions.

A roll of eyes and a grin received a reply of 'I know I'm an idiot we can't all be as smart as you.' This was cheerily said because the grin meant 'but I still like you anyway'.

A twitch of the hand and rapidly moving eyes received a put upon utterance of 'if I play cluedo with you will the wall be safe?'

It wasn't just that his expressions could be read it was also like John knew what he needed and not just on cases. Without John he would most likely not eat until he passed out, (that had been the case before, not that he had told John that but he somehow suspected that the Doctor knew it anyway) he wouldn't drink or sleep in healthy quantities either.

Sher-cat altered that dynamic even more because as a cat Sherlock let John take care of him more and he was actually a bit more openly affectionate. John found it humorous that by acting like a cat Sherlock was slowly becoming more human.

The fact that Sherlock was practically feline in his actions anyway made him even more interesting when he choose to be Sher-cat.

The third instance of Sher-cat was one that John would never forget because it saved both of their lives. They had been captured for the fourth time that week. This time it was by a person that even John wouldn't hesitate to call an idiot. The man had dropped out of school at twelve to pursue a full-time career of petty crimes. The man had caught them purely by accident and now was holding them at gunpoint.

"Where is it?" the man growled in an irritating voice that gave John an instant headache.

"Sherlock what is he talking about?" John asked.

"Most likely something that I discovered in a case that I had before I met you."

"Shut up!" the man screamed in irritation because the two of them didn't seem scared despite the fact that he was the one with the gun in his hand.

After that neither of them spoke and that was driving the man, who was named Bob of all thing, bonkers. So he moved them to the basement of the building so that he wouldn't give in to the temptation to shoot them before he got his answer.

When Bob came back he was even more trigger happy than before. John was sitting on the floor petting Sher-cat.

John had never mentioned Sher-cat on his blog and the only people that knew were some of the Yarders, who for reasons not to be named had talked about it to no one. So there was no reason that this idiot would see through the plan.

John's hand never stopped petting Sher-cat but his eyes pleaded with his captor. "You have to help me. He really has lost it. He thinks he's a cat."

Bob stood still for a moment before aiming the gun at John daring him to move as he kicked Sherlock. Sher-cat hissed and swiped angrily at the man. When Bob was distracted John moved quickly taking the gun and turning it on its owner.

* * *

**A/n Saved by Sher-cat what could possibly happen next?  
**

**I'll tell you this it will be kinda fluffy. ^_^  
**


	4. A gift for Sher-cat

**A/n so you guys get a double dose today. What happened was I wrote the next chapter after this before writing this one. I had a list that I am following so I was like 'o crap I need to write another chapter'. So this was born. It works out better anyway because I promised fluff and this one is fluffy as an oversized marshmallow.**

John was Bored. First of lets explain the capital B. the word 'bored' is when you say I have nothing to do so you log onto the net or go get your cell phone and call your friend or pick up a book. Now 'Bored' is when you are about to go completely bonkers and shoot a wall or something.

So let's start again John was Bored. There was nothing to do. He had even called Mycroft just for something to do that was how Bored his was. Everything had fallen through. Everyone was busy, the flat was clean, the blog updated and recently checked, the fridge was for once full of consumable foodstuff and he wasn't tired.

John flopped on the couch. If this was what Sherlock felt like without a case it was a wonder that Sherlock hadn't died of spontaneous combustion. Sherlock was out on a case the lucky bastard. John would give anything to go back in time and say yes to when Sherlock had asked him to go with him to the States which is where the case was. The mad genius had been gone a week and now John was like this.

Then it came to him the perfect or should he say a purrfect idea.

* * *

Two days later Sherlock returned from the week-long trip. He was just happy to be home. He never realized that he would miss John or the flat the way he had. Not that he would tell anyone that but it was always startling to realize new things about one's self.

Sherlock's main problem was that he was unable to stop thinking. It was both a gift and a curse to live with a brain so formidable that there were few ways to shut it down. He should have known that John Watson would discover a way.

When Sherlock walked into the room his brain crashed. _This_ was _not_ the flat that he had left.

'It is a maze' he managed to think as he looked down the tunnel. There were interconnected tubes everywhere. They were inflatable tubes that put together to encompass the sitting room and part of the kitchen. The furniture was pushed into the part of the kitchen that wasn't filled with the tubing.

For a moment he could do nothing but stare at it. But then John ran down the tunnel. "Sherlock! Sherlylocky lockety lock! I misseded you. I made you a tunnel maze. Do you like it?"

Sherlock made his brain work so he could study John. The man was clearly dosed with enough caffeine to wake the dead. His eyes were glazed, his face was flushed, and his clothing was rumpled. Sherlock frowned what had happened while he was away?

At his frown John's smile disappeared and he actually started to cry. "You… don't like… it!" he sobbed.

"John stop please. I like it. It's…nice."

Just like that John stopped and was happy again. "I made it for Sher-kitty I knew you'd like it." Then, less than a minute after saying that, the blond passed out. Sherlock stepped forward and caught his friend carrying him up the stairs to his bed which was perfectly made advertising to Sherlock that it hadn't been slept in for a while.

After stripping the jumper and trousers from his friend Sherlock put him under the sheets. As Sherlock was about to go downstairs he membered that it was currently a maze and he truly did not feel up to finding his way through it.

The detective shrugged off his coat and lay beside his friend on the bed and slept.

When Sherlock woke he glanced over at the clock. It was eight at night. It was noon when he had come home. He looked over and saw that John was still asleep. Figuring that his friend would sleep for a few more hours at least he pulled back on his coat and walked down to Angelo's.

About forty minutes later he was back with the food. He bypassed the tunnels of 221B and went back to John's room. It was no surprise the man was still asleep. After a moments debate he went to wake him. Sherlock was hungry and he could bet that John hadn't eaten anything in a long while.

John groaned as he was pulled from a dream where he had wings and was flying over London at night time. "Sherlock?" He groaned rubbing at his eyes. He was so tired.

"I got food." He stated holding up the bag.

John crawled out of bed and plunked down on the floor where Sherlock had spread the meal. He was half-way finished with his portion when he realized _why_ they were eating in his room. "Sherlock… I didn't make a huge tunnel downstairs did I?"

Sherlock stayed silent.

"I did." Groaned John. "Please tell me that I dreamt that part where you came through the door and…" John stopped there and adopted a look of pure horror the look Sherlock was giving him was more than enough confirmation of what happened.

"God Sherlock I'm sorry. I was bored and it just got out of hand."

Sherlock had an amused smile on his face. For some reason it had never crossed his mind that John would go stir-crazy with boredom. "At least you didn't shoot the wall." He said and just like that everything was fine.

After the meal John went back to bed and Sherlock spent the next hour moving the maze to its permanent home in 221C.

**A/n sorry that there was no Sher-cat here but I still like this chap. Apparently I fail at writing to my own prompts cause this chapter was supposed to be way different and it stole the name for the next chapter. **


	5. Gratitude of Sher-cat

**A/n as promised the second chapter. A little more H/C than pure fluff but Sher-cat makes an appearance in this one at least.**

The next time that John had the privilege to encounter his flatmate's… alter ego was because of another crime scene. Unlike last time though, it wasn't provocation from Yarders that had pushed Sherlock into his feline persona.

In fact Sherlock and John had only been with Lestrade before Sher-cat showed up. The case was easily classified as a home invasion gone wrong but the thing was that with no defining marks on the victim it was impossible to tell what had caused the death and that was what made this a case where they had to call in Sherlock

John knew that something was wrong the instant that Sherlock laid eyes on the victim. But he kept his mouth shut about that. He would ask later if Sherlock seemed like he wanted to tell him. The fact that Sherlock was in some way emotionally attached to this case didn't slow down his deductive speed. In this case it was enhanced and he rattled off the information so fast that neither Greg nor John could keep up with him.

After he had finished rattling out what was no doubt brilliant observations he walked right out of the crime scene. But instead of hailing a cab to wherever the evidence to prove his deductions was he flew down the street at a fast pace that John had to run to catch up.

When he caught up to the detective, John pushed him against a conveniently placed wall while he tried to get enough breath to talk. "Sherlock… what… just happened?" he said still breathing hard.

"Nothing John," Sherlock said averting his eyes.

John laughed. "Sherlock I might not be up to _your_ level of observational ability but you can't honestly expect me to believe that you believe that I didn't notice what happened back there."

"John I can't…" Sherlock broke off.

John was about to speak but he noticed how public that this was and he dragged his friend into a nearby alley. It was deserted and they were less likely to be seen or heard.

"Sherlock please tell me what happened back there."

For a moment Sherlock wanted to shrug John off. If he did that he knew that the man wouldn't ask again. But John was his friend and the worry that he had was obvious. "It reminded me of some things that from my past that were not very nice. It's ridiculous I know considering-"

"Stop it." John said cutting the man off. He really didn't get how the scene had reminded the man of his past but judging by the dark way Sherlock had said it the memories were bad and John had no right to pry. Anyway that was not important because for all he knew it was because of some obscure detail that had reminded him. What was important was that Sherlock had more or less admitted to the dreaded feeling of sentiment by telling John what he had.

"It's okay to be hurt by memories I should know since I am hurt by mine. The important thing is that everything is fine right now. They are memories and only live inside of our heads. The only important questions now are do you need me to help you take care of some old enemies or are we going to go find some critical piece of evidence for those hopeless Yarders?" He finished with a grin.

Sherlock looked… well shocked at how John had said that. It was like he wanted to say something or do something but he didn't know how so he just stood there looking at John as though willing the ex-army doctor to understand.

John looked at him quizzically for a moment before he smiled. Sherlock was struggling with how to express gratitude. The man had a vocabulary to rival the dictionary, could solve crimes at the speed of light, and could play the violin better than many of the professionals but he struggled with how to say 'thanks for cheering me up.'

John stood there and eyed the man with curiosity. This was Sherlock's challenge to solve.

Sherlock recognized the challenge and after thinking for a moment he shifted into his cat persona which had no problem being cuddly. John just rolled his eyes he should have seen this coming. He had promised himself the next time that Sherlock's cat persona surfaced he would do something. Before he could chicken out he pulled the thin black strap from pocket and fastened it. On the front of the gold coin was Sher-cat and on the back was 221B with J.H.W underneath.

For a moment the man-cat in his arms froze and John thought he had went too far but then Sherlock made his humming-purr and he knew that it was all fine.


	6. The Illness of Sher-cat

**A/n another little one for all of you guys cause I've been getting such good response. The next chap is practically written because it is one of the ones that I have had since ch2 but after that who knows. **

The next time that Sher-cat showed up it was in the flat on a cool Saturday morning. John had just come downstairs to make tea and was surprised to find that Sherlock wasn't up. He wasn't too worried because though it did not happen often he Sherlock did sleep later than John did.

Sighing at his tendency to mother hen the man he went over to Sherlock's room and slowly opened the door. The man was indeed still in bed. For a moment John smiled. Sherlock slept like a little kid. His limbs were spread across the bed as he lay on his back. The cover was half on him and half on the floor and his hair was a mess.

As quietly as he had come in he retreated leaving the door open just a crack. Then he went back and made himself a cup of tea.

When a few hours had passed and Sherlock still hadn't come out of his room, John went back to check on him. The man was still in bed tangled in the sheets but his breathing wasn't quite right. With a bit of dread John went over and placed his hand on the other man's face. It was as he had feared Sherlock was running a fever.

A lot of haste and one stubbed toe later John returned with the thermometer.

"Sherlock I need you to wake up for me." John said as he gently shook the man awake.

Sherlock swatted John away or at least he tried to. The hand swung wildly at him for only a moment before the other man lacked the energy to keep it going.

Bleary eyes blinked at him when he shook the man again. While Sherlock was relatively still John put the thermometer in.

When it beeped John retrieved it and looked at the reading. 40.4.

When he turned to leave he found that Sherlock's eyes were on him and if he didn't know better he would think that the detective looked sad. This was more or less confirmed for John when the man let out a low mewling sound.

John smiled softly so he was taking care of a sick cat then. "I'm just going to get some medicine," he assured the other in the room. "You're pretty ill and unless you want to go to the hospital I'd really better get some medicine for you."

When he saw the understanding flash in those too bright eyes he went and gather what supplies he had handy. A few minutes later he returned to the room and saw that the man-cat on the bed looked up at him in surprise. It was then that he thought that maybe whenever Sherlock had been sick in the past there was no one willing to care for him or maybe he didn't trust anyone enough to tell them he was ill and so he had suffered in silence. That would certainly explain why he'd gone into Sher-cat mode.

John gave him a bit of tea with honey and milk knowing very well that no food would stay down. After a minute when the tea stayed where it was he gave the other some pills and let him drift back to sleep. John stayed there the whole day petting the messy curls soothing away panicked nightmares in the night as the fever soared before going down, and basically tending to his friend in all the ways necessary.

The next day Sherlock was still sick but not as much as the previous day. Since that was the case they both went out to the sitting room and watched crap telly. Well John watched crap telly and Sherlock just lay with his head in John's lap almost the same as the day that Sher-cat came into existence.

With everything being nice and comfortable it was only right that something should happen to upset the balance and the something came marching in the door with a posh suit and an umbrella.

"I heard that my dear brother was sick so I came for a visit. Doctor Watson I presume there is a reason that my brother is impersonating some type of _Felis catus."_

" No he's a new species, detectivus crimesolvius. Seriously can't you just say housecat?" John asked. He wasn't surprised in the least when the man didn't reply and merely sat in one of the arm chairs.

Mycroft looked at Sherlock and for once Sherlock paid him no attention at all and butted his head against the hand that had stopped petting him.

"Come now Sherlock drop this petty charade and speak with me."

This made John angry. Sher-cat was not a 'petty charade' as Mycroft had put it. This way of acting was the only way that Sherlock seemed truly comfortable with seeking and giving affection. That made it important and someone that was as observant at Mycroft should see that.

"Mycroft," John said in his Captain Watson voice not caring at the moment that he was threatening someone that could have him killed with little effort. "You have two options at this point," John said as he stood after gently removing Sherlock's head from his lap. "You can apologize and I will forget you said what you did and make tea or you can leave and never set foot in here again. Your choice."

For a moment Mycroft was shocked. The Doctor was mad and he could tell that he was serious about all he was saying. Mycroft knew that he could take John out of the equation but it was not worth it. Sherlock would never forgive him and would hate him for the rest of their lives that was not a situation that he wanted and he knew John knew that as well. Mycroft swallowed.

"My apologies." The man said and John nodded hard and went off to make the tea.

He came back with two mugs on the tray and one small bowl.

Mycroft couldn't help but remember what he had said that day at the scene of the first crime the Doctor and his brother had completed together. _Interesting, that soldier fellow. He could be the making of my brother. Or make him worse than ever._

He had been wrong that day John had done both but for some reason he found that he couldn't help but be happy about it.


	7. The Orgin of Sher-cat

After solving a case John and Sherlock were just lounging around in the calm haze that followed a good case. John was sitting on the sofa drinking tea and Sherlock was beside him suffering through a Disney movie called The Lion King (well actually he was really enjoying it but he wasn't going to give John the satisfaction of knowing that he was).

John, being as attuned to Sherlock as he was, knew that the mad genius was loving the movie but he kept that to himself knowing that the man would deny it. He also really couldn't take the fact that if he were to say something Sherlock would no doubt rip the movie to pieces with an animated speech on how ludicrous the movie was.

After they watched the circle of life continue with the holding up of the new cub John popped in another movie. This time it was the Aristocats. John figured that coming from... a background like Sherlock's the man would appreciate the movie.

It was as Edgar was being shipped to Timbuktu that Sherlock said, "Don't think I haven't noticed that you chose to cat movies in a row."

To this John replied, "I didn't think you would fail to notice but I thought that if the movies were one with cats then you would be less likely to verbally attack them since you like cats."

Sherlock humped and said nothing else. But John could see that there was something on his mind.

"What are you thinking about."

"Nothing important." Sherlock said waving off his friends concern.

John was more alert now. Sherlock always said that his brain was the most important thing to him and for him to say that a thought that he had thunk was not important well that was odd at least and scary at most.

"Sherlock please don't lie to me. If you don't want to tell me something just say so but don't lie to me. When you do something bad always ends up happening."

Sherlock winced that did seem to be the case. With a sigh he said, "I just don't want to upset you."

John was visibly shocked to hear that out of Sherlock. He knew of course that Sherlock tried to refrain from making him angry and upset but he never thought that he would hear the man admit it aloud. Shaking that off he paused the credits of the movie so that he could focus on just Sherlock with no other distractions. "What did you think about that you thought would upset me?"

For a moment it seemed that Sherlock would refuse to answer him. "Do you remember that day when you first encountered my feline alter ego?"

John nodded not wanting to interrupt now that Sherlock was speaking,

"I was having a _bad_ day."

When he said bad in the way he had John knew that he meant that he was having one of those moments where the drugs looked to good to resist.

Without looking at John, Sherlock continued. "I didn't want to be seen like that and I lost track of time. Before I knew it you were coming home from work. I didn't have the energy to go and hide away in my room so I stayed where I was."

"Then I came in and you didn't want to talk-"

"So I pretended to be the first animal that came to mind. I never thought that you would respond to me like you did."

"I'm sorry Sherlock if I had known then I would have..." he broke off there. He didn't know what he would have done. It wouldn't have been what he did though he was certain of that.

"John." Sherlock said snapping him out of his thoughts. "I am happy with the way it turned out. Your actions were a surprise and that snapped me out of that frame of mind. Anyway if you feel that you owe me a debt just consider my thrill at seeing someone threaten and scare Mycroft as your payment of that debt."

John smiled but Sherlock could tell that he still felt bad.

With a sigh Sherlock said, "John a cat isn't the worst thing that I have been and more than that I enjoy the simplicity of it. It was my choice to slip into that role again after that first time so you shouldn't be troubled by it for my sake."

John knew that Sherlock was subtlety asking if he was annoyed by him when he slipped into his feline persona. John smiled again, genuinely this time, and asked, "Do you want to watch another movie?" At Sherlock's nod he pulled out Oliver and Company and thus Sherlock's introduction to Disney and it's cats continued.

**A/n not too fluffy but not to much darkness (dark when compared with the usual fluff i write) so we shall call this a fluff sandwich since it begins fluff and ends fluff. This was always my reason for Sher-cat since the beginning. There was a review that asked for the reason so here it is. I really don't know what will happen next and so the next update will occur when I am hit with some bolt of inspiration. **


	8. Sher-cat makes a friend

The day began in a deceptively normal way. The kind of way that was common in the Before Sherlock Era. That was the first thing that clued John to the fact that something was going on. He had woke up on his own and the flat was quiet. Usually he awoke to nightmares about the war or the chronic screeching of a violin.

There was nothing in his room besides his things and himself. Throwing a robe over his pajamas he went downstairs. He then saw that Sherlock was sitting at the table and he nearly fainted. The man wasn't doing an experiment in fact the table was actually free of chemicals for once. No Sherlock was eating food. At the table. By himself. Without prompting.

"Morning," Sherlock said as he spotted his flatmate.

"I'm dreaming right?" John asked.

"Do you often dream of me?" Sherlock asked.

John sighed it was too early in the morning for this kind of a shock.

As John was making himself a cup of liquid heaven he felt Sherlock approach him.

"John."

John knew that voice. It was the 'I want you to do something for me' voice that usually led to some sort of embarrassment or danger for John not that he minded danger being the adrenaline junkie that he was but embarrassment was something that he could do without thank you very much. "No. whatever it is no."

"Please."

And that was how John found himself on his hands and knees pretending to be a dog. Apparently Sherlock needed to study the behavior of a pet but the man was simply too lazy to… acquire a real animal and somehow that translated to John having to pretend that he was an animal because for some unfathomable reason he was the perfect substitution for a pet in this experiment.

John looked at Sherlock with a glare set to kill but it had no effect on the man. He considered biting him. But that would be acting too much like a dog and he was not a dog!

Sherlock for his part was simply pulling the marshmallows out of a bowl of Lucky Charms because it was the closet that he could get to kibble since John sworn off of Coco Puffs, Peanut Butter Crunch and a whole lot of other cereals due to an experiment gone awry and Sherlock didn't shop so the only option was the Lucky Charms however tedious removing the marshmallows was.

Once he was done he placed the bowl in front of John. For a moment he saw the man glare at the cereal as though it had commit an unforgivable offense toward him but because he hadn't had breakfast he ate the cereal.

After the humiliation of the cereal John decided that if Sherlock wanted a dog he would be a dog and with that he went over to Sherlock with the intent to attack him. But as soon as he was close he was hit in the head with a white projectile. He looked over to where the object that had hit him in the head had ended up so he could see what it was. It was a squeak toy in the shape of a skull and despite his best efforts he couldn't help but be fascinated because he had never seen one before.

After he was able to leave the skull alone(which took far longer than he was willing to admit because for heaven's sake a _skull_ shaped squeak toy was such a Sherlock thing to have and the thing had to be custom made because he knew of no shop that would carry such a thing) he made another plan. He went and took a bath and when he got out he was in his boxers and still soaking wet. With a shake here and a rub there he successfully ruined suit pants that probably cost more than he had ever made in his life.

With that he pranced over to the couch and hopped on it. That would teach Sherlock to make him be an animal.

John closed his eyes so he didn't see when Sherlock walked over to him. He didn't open his eyes until he felt a fluffy towel, which most certainly did not belong to him, drying off his body.

"You'll catch a cold if you stay wet like this."

John closed his eyes again. Sherlock wasn't supposed to be worried that he would catch a cold. He was supposed to be mad and Sherlocky about the situation. Now John felt guilty and because of the rule that Sherlock had set in place when he had forced this role upon John he couldn't even apologize with words and he wasn't going to resort to whining because he was not a dog!

John whimpered blushing as he did so because yes that was _so_ much better than whining and no it wasn't the same thing. Not at all. Great now he wanted to bite Sherlock again for putting him in this position and he was going to as soon as those long fingers stopped soothingly rubbing through his hair.

It was really quite relaxing, a little weird yes, but really relaxing. The blanket was quite warm too. That startled him. Since when was there a blanket over him? But it was so warm and it smelled of detergent and was so very soft.

Once John was asleep Sherlock smiled. The plan had been successful and sure John had protested at first but he had gotten him there in the end. After all everyone needed a friend, John had taught him that truth. Sher-cat had been all alone before but now there was J-nine to keep him company and who said that a cat and a dog couldn't get along.

**A/n okay I kind of had this planned the character of J-nine when I started this, I didn't have him named but he was planned but how he ended up coming about here surprised me too. Hope you guys like it. PS I love reviews and I would love to hear the reactions to this chapter. Have I crossed a line? Should I cut my losses and end it? Does it need more fluff? Oh and thanks again to the people that have reviewed the other chapters.**


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